


Fixing My Mistakes

by MonPetitTresor



Series: Family Don't End With Blood [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Apologies, Dean's trying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s06e12 Like a Virgin, Family, Fluff, Great Wall of Sam, Protective Dean, Protective Jarvis, Protective Tony, Sam's a puppy, Sam's sorry, Supportive Dean, mentions of soulless sam, soulless sam is a dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-05 15:06:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11580546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonPetitTresor/pseuds/MonPetitTresor
Summary: Once Sam gets his soul back, he tries to go and fix a few mistakes - namely those with his family.





	1. Chapter 1

One of the first things that Sam wanted to do once he’d reunited with Bobby and Dean – and had enough food to fill his achingly empty stomach – was call Tony. Finding out that he’d been downstairs for a _year and a half_ was a terrifying thing, but at the moment Sam couldn’t remember any of it and he was going to count that as a win. However, that meant that his family had spent a year and a half thinking that he was dead and gone. There was no way he could sit back and let them worry about it a moment longer than they had to.

He waited until he was upstairs in his room, where Dean had ordered him to ‘go rest’, before he dug out his phone. Finding a phone that wasn’t a Starkphone was enough to have him furrowing his eyebrows a little. Why didn’t he have _his_ phone? He debated it only a second before shrugging his shoulder and dialing a familiar number. He listened to it ring as he settled down onto the bed.

It rang. And rang. And rang.

To Sam’s surprise, he found himself sent to voicemail. Not JARVIS, taking a message for him. Just regular voicemail.

Sam hung the phone up and looked down at it with surprise. This, it wasn’t something that he could leave in a voicemail message. It was too important to do that. But, why hadn’t Tony or JARVIS answered? Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t carrying his old phone anymore. Yeah, that had to be it. They didn’t know it was him and that was why they didn’t answer.

Curling in on himself a little, Sam let his eyes drift closed and he laid the phone on the bed nearby. Once he was awake again, he’d see if he could find _his_ phone and give Tony a call.

* * *

When Sam woke up again, there wasn’t much time to try and hunt down his phone. Not when he walked outside to find that Dean and Bobby were getting ready to leave on a case. In short order, Sam was gathering up his stuff and Bobby was staying behind, and the two Winchesters were back out on the road again.

It felt amazingly good to sit in the passenger’s seat of the Impala and look over at his brother. To see Dean driving, fingers tapping on the wheel to the beat of the music on the radio. It soothed a place inside of Sam that felt – tense. They were just discussing the case, sharing information and making plans the same way they always had, and yet it was like it was something new. Something amazing. Sam relaxed into the familiar feel of it. Whatever had happened this past year and a half, this whole deal-with-Death thing, they could deal with whatever came from it. He had faith in that.

They talked their way through the case, and then through a little bit of what had happened this past year and a half. Well, Sam probed a little, Dean deflected, admitted only a little, and then he turned the music up and neither one of them were talking.

There wasn’t a chance for Sam to try and call Tony again once they arrived. He didn’t get his chance until the next morning, after another girl had been attacked and they were still no closer to finding _anything_. While Dean was in the shower, Sam tried his call again, and again he found himself reaching voicemail. It was starting to worry him more than he wanted to admit to. If he didn’t reach Tony by the time they were done with this case, he was going to have Dean make a detour before whatever came next. He wasn’t going to just let Tony think that he was dead any longer than he had to.

* * *

Dragons. They were hunting _dragons_.

The idea seemed ridiculous. Dragons? Actual _dragons_? There was no way! And yet – and yet Dean hadn’t dismissed it at all, and Bobby had found them someone for Dean to go and speak with, someone who apparently knew about dragons.

As Sam waited for Dean to get back, he had a hard time focusing on the case like he knew he should. Too many things were preying on his mind. So many questions were circling through his mind it was making it difficult to focus. Why wasn’t Tony answering his phone? Where had Sam’s actual phone gone? And his clothes – he’d never carried a lot on him, but his go-bag had only had three outfits total in there, and one single bottle of shampoo. More than that, though – what had happened this past year and a half? What kind of deal had Dean made with Death? Why was Bobby acting so, strange?

There was only one way that Sam could think of that he _might_ get some answers. While Dean was gone, Sam called down Castiel.

He felt sort of bad tricking the angel into talking to him, pretending that he already knew everything and just needed Castiel to fill in some blank gaps. But once he realized what was going on, how he’d spent the past year and a half soulless, how his soul looked like it’d been ‘skinned alive’ and the wall Death had put in was the only thing keeping him from going insane, there wasn’t any room in Sam for him to feel guilty about tricking Castiel. Not when the guilt of so many other things was kicking in.

In true Castiel fashion, the angel hadn’t minced any words when he explained things to Sam. He hadn’t hidden anything, assuming Sam knew it all, and it was ridiculously easy to prompt him into telling more and more details.

Soulless. Sam had spent the last _year and a half_ soulless. He’d let Dean get turned into a vampire, had almost _killed Bobby_ , and God only knew what else he’d done!

When Castiel left, Sam scrambled to his feet and shot to the bathroom. He barely made it there before his stomach was emptying itself into the bowl. He held on, clinging for dear life as his body felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out. _Jesus_ , what else had he done this past year? What had soulless him done to everyone? A thought hit him and he moaned, soft and low. With his arms crossed on the toilet seat, he dropped his sweaty forehead to rest on them, keeping over the bowl while his stomach continued to churn anxiously. Was this the reason that Tony hadn’t answered his phone? Had Sam – had he done something to his brother?

Countless thoughts swirled round and round in Sam’s head and it took him a long time to get himself under control enough to even begin to think of what he was going to do.

Only, even as he finally exited the bathroom, his brother was calling him and Sam’s personal problems got pushed to the back burner. In true Winchester fashion, the case came first. But Sam vowed to himself that he was going to take care of this when the case was done. He was going to use the internet, track his brother down, and then he was going to go after him and make sure that he was all right. Even if Tony never wanted to see Sam afterwards, the younger Winchester still had to try.

* * *

Sam knew that his timing was terrible. He knew it. He just, he couldn’t help it. He’d put things off once their case was done because things had been weird and they’d needed to get some stuff back to Bobby. He’d put things off to have that conversation with Dean – to apologize for everything he’d done, even if he didn’t know what it all was – and then he’d put it off for another few hours as Bobby told them about what he’d found in the book they’d brought back with them.

No matter how many things they fought, it always seemed like there was something new coming their way, something worse than before, and this didn’t seem to be going any differently.

The book they’d brought back from the dragons’ lair was about Purgatory – more specifically, how to open a door from Purgatory, so they could bring something out. And if they were right in their guesses, that something was a creature they called ‘Mother of All’.

It was a giant mess and one that Sam knew they needed to focus on. It was important. It was necessary. And yet… this was important too. Extremely important. There was no way t hat Sam could keep putting it off. Especially since there was no telling what would happen with this new threat or how long it would take to take care of it. Sam wasn’t willing to indefinitely put off reuniting with Tony. He just wasn’t.

Sam did his research. He sat up with a laptop that night – that was definitely not made by SI, just to be sure JARVIS wasn’t watching – and he’d researched his brother. There was no one awake to notice his huge sigh of relief when he found that Tony was at least still alive. Living in Stark Tower, too, it would see.

Once he had all that, Sam knew what he needed to do. Just as he knew Dean wasn’t going to like it.

“You want to _what_?” Dean demanded loudly, staring at Sam over the breakfast table.

Sam refused to be cowed. He sat there, arms folded over his chest, and he met his brother stare for stare. “I want to go to New York before we head out anywhere else. I need to go see Tony, Dean. I need to let him know I’m alive.”

“You can’t _call him_? We’re kind of in the middle of a brand new mess and there’s not exactly time for joyrides.”

In contrast to Dean’s growls, Sam kept his voice even. It was always the best way to counter his brother’s temper. If Sam wasn’t careful, he’d end up shouting right back and nothing would be solved because one of them would hit the other, or one of them would storm away. He had to keep calm and keep in control, because this wasn’t something he was going to compromise on. “There’s always a new mess going on. If I waited for there not to be one, I’d never get to see him. And as for calling – I would, but no one’s answering, and it’s probably better to do this face to face anyways. He might not believe it otherwise.” When he saw Dean gearing up to say something else, Sam hurried to continue, saying the words he knew would hurt Dean, yet would help him understand. “I know you don’t like it, but, Dean – Tony’s like another brother to me. And I wouldn’t tell you I was back with a stupid phone call.”

Just like he expected, Dean had no argument towards that. He glared at Sam for a long moment and then huffed out a breath. Slamming down his mug, the older Winchester pushed up from the table. “Fine. Get your shit together – we’re leaving in an hour. That drive talks practically the whole damn day.”

Sam said nothing as Dean stormed out of the room. He just sat there with his coffee, knowing his bag was already packed and waiting upstairs. He’d packed it before he came down. With or without Dean, his plan had been to go to New York today. He needed to find out what had happened. He needed to know just how much damage he had to fix.

Sighing, Sam dropped his head down and let his eyes close, trying to ignore the headache that had been there since he woke up. It was going to be a long, long day.


	2. Chapter 2

It didn’t take the two of them long to get to New York. Less time after that to find and arrive at Stark Tower. As they pulled up to it, Sam couldn’t help but stare up at the building in front of him. It was mostly complete from what Sam could gather. They hadn’t officially opened it yet – there were still things that looked like they needed to be done – but everything he’d researched on the drive out here said that Tony was already living there. That was what was important.

Dean was understandably nervous about the whole thing. “Stark’s going to have security in there, Sammy.” He pointed out as he parked the car. “Showing our faces in there might not really be the best plan. We’re still considered dead, remember?”

“I know.” It just didn’t matter. He had to get in there and talk to Tony no matter what it took. Besides, he had every faith that, no matter what he’d done this past year, either JARVIS would alert Tony and the older man would come down, or JARVIS would make sure they at least weren’t arrested. Sam _had_ to hold on to that faith; the idea that he might’ve done anything to damage their relationship bad enough for Tony or JARVIS not to care, it was devastating.

He heard Dean let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Great. Let’s do this, then.” Then his brother was yanking the keys out of the ignition and grumbling to himself as he climbed out of the car. Just barely did Sam catch the words “…be _perfect_. We aren’t taken out by monsters or anything like that, _nooo_ , we’re gonna be taken out by a smarmy bastard in a metal suit…”

It would’ve been funny at any other moment. If Sam had been able to focus beyond the knot of worry that sat down low in his gut, that is. At the moment all he could do was get out of the car and go with Dean towards the entrance of this huge building his brother had created.

When they reached the front doors and they silently opened, neither Dean nor Sam said anything. When the elevator doors opened at the far end of the empty room – Dean let out a low curse. “Freaky as fuck.” The older Winchester growled out.

Sam looked up, knowing that there were cameras somewhere, that JARVIS was watching. Likely he’d been watching since something or other had spotted their car near the tower. Potentially even before that. The idea of being watched like that didn’t bother Sam. He was used to what it could be like staying in a home with Tony and JARVIS in it. He didn’t even pause in his trek across the room and to the elevator. When he got inside, Dean beside him, and the doors closed, it felt natural for Sam to reach a hand out and lay it on the wall of the elevator. “Hey, JARVIS.”

The fact that JARVIS didn’t answer only made Sam’s worry grow. What had he done? What the hell had he done to Tony?

It ate at him the whole, long ride up the tower. When they got close to the top, slowing down in preparation, Sam cast a look over at Dean and lowly warned him “Remember what I said. Just… let me handle this, Dean.”

The fact that Dean didn’t answer didn’t really reassure him.

When the elevator doors opened, the spacious room that they were greeted with was something Sam only registered on an instinctive level by the part of him that always logged away the area around him, sought out exits and entrances, and any potential threats. That part of him registered that they were in a large living room with multiple couches, a large TV and gaming system, tons of huge windows, and three nearby doors. The bigger chunk of him was laser focused on the man standing near a large dark blue couch that looked like it could hold three of Sam on it.

Relief hit Sam at the sight of Tony whole and healthy. He looked well put together, either on his way to or from a business meeting of some sort judging by the impeccable suit he was wearing. But his eyes were cool as they drifted over Sam and Dean, and he made no move to come towards them or open up his arms or any of the things Sam might’ve normally expected. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and quirked a brow at them both.

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” Tony said dryly, not moving towards them at all. The smile on his lips made Sam’s chest hurt. That wasn’t the smile he was used to – that was Tony’s publicity smile. The one he wore for photos. The one that hid everything he was feeling underneath it. It only made the wrong feeling in Sam grow stronger. That got worse when Tony continued to speak, perfectly controlled, not a sign of his usual teasing or nicknames or anything even remotely _him_. “Pretty bold move, strolling right up to the tower like that. I was under the impression it wasn’t safe for us to meet.”

Dean turned to look at Sam with open annoyance on his face. “You told him?” He lifted a hand and gestured at himself, then over to Tony. “You couldn’t tell _me_ , but you told _him_?”

“Dean, I don’t…” Sam cut himself off and sighed. Then he lifted a hand and scrubbed it over his face. “You know it wasn’t like that.” It wasn’t like he remembered anything! How was he supposed to understand why he’d done what he’d done while soulless?

That seemed to hit Dean and he drew back, though his glare was still there. He wasn’t happy with this but he wasn’t going to push it. Not surprising, considering he’d been the one pushing the point so far with Sam that the things he’d done weren’t his fault. As if he caught was Sam was thinking, he shifted his weight so he was just a bit closer, and he murmured “Not your fault, Sammy.” Then he turned towards Tony and glared at the man while stuffing his hands down into his pockets. “Why don’t you simmer down a second, turbo, and let him explain, huh? Surprise, surprise – things aren’t as easy as they might seem.”

The older man huffed out a breath. “It’s cute that you think you can barge into my home and start demanding I listen to you, Winchester.”

To those that knew him the way that Sam did, the hurt that Tony was trying to hide was easy enough to see in his eyes and in the forced casual set of his body. That was a look he’d never thought to see directed his way. He hoped to God he hadn’t screwed this up as badly as he’d screwed up other things this past year and a half. Looking up at his other brother, Sam licked his lips and then made himself blurt out the words that he hoped would help make Tony understand. “Whatever contact you had with me this past year and a half, it wasn’t me.”

Now both eyebrows were up. He turned away from Dean and his whole focus was on Sam, sharper than before. “Run that by me again?”

Sam let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know when I contacted you or whatever to tell you that I was alive, but it wasn’t me. Apparently whatever pulled me up out of the Cage only pulled out my body. My soul was still down there until a few days ago when Death got it and put it back in for me.” Even thinking about it was enough to make him shiver. The headache he’d been feeling gave an extra hard pulse that almost made him wince.

A low growl from Dean cut him off. “Sam.” There was warning in his voice and Sam knew what his brother was worried about. Without waiting for Sam to say anything, Dean turned to Tony and finished the story for him. “Look, his soul was stuck down there all this time, so I made a deal with Death and he put Sam’s soul back in him, and he put him a wall to keep him from remembering what happened to him while he was down there. So don’t go probing, cause Death warned him not to poke at it or it’s gonna break, an all those memories of hell are gonna come flooding back in.”

It was easier to not think about that part of things. As Sam watched Tony’s incredulous mask fade to one of shock, and of worry, he hurried to finish, wanting him to understand. “Whatever I’ve done while my body was going around without a soul, I don’t, I don’t remember it, Tone. So whatever I did to you, I’m so sorry. As soon as I got my soul back and we were sure I wasn’t going to go insane, I came straight here, I swear.” Sam held his hands out on either side of him and he knew his expression was pleading. He needed Tony to understand. He couldn’t lose him because of this. He just, he couldn’t.

For a long moment Tony just stared at him. Sam actually saw it as the realization of what Sam was saying sank in and the mask he’d been hiding behind before finally fell away. The older man shook his head, yet when he looked up again, his expression was the one that Sam had been hoping to see before. The open one, so full of honest affection. “Well I’ll be damned.” Without another word, he was striding forward, and it was so easy for Sam to let himself get enfolded into Tony’s embrace, those familiar arms yanking him in tight and close until Sam was able to bury his face at Tony’s neck and just cling to him. The arc reactor pressed between them, a weight that had become familiar to them both, and Sam just clung tighter to the man. “I’m sorry, Tone. Whatever I did, I’m so damn sorry.”

He felt Tony’s soft huff of breath and then the engineer was bringing one hand up to cup the back of his head while the other still held him around the shoulders. “Shut up. You didn’t do anything to me, pipsqueak.” Tony gave him one more squeeze and then pulled them back just enough that he could cup Sam’s face and force the other man to look at him. “You didn’t do anything, okay? You ignored me, kept putting me off with texts that it ‘wasn’t safe’ to see me, and you evaded me the two times I tried to track you down, but you didn’t actually do anything to me.”

Thank God. _Thank God_. But – it wasn’t just Tony that he was worried about. He tilted his head, looking up towards the ceiling. “JARVIS?”

He didn’t have to clarify. The AI understood his half asked question, and this time he didn’t hesitate to speak with Sam, the usual warmth present in his voice. “You caused me no harm, young sir. You refused to use Stark tech, so I was unable to reach you that way, and you disabled my monitoring system in Bobby Singer’s home, but you caused me no harm.”

If Dean hadn’t been watching behind him, Sam might’ve given in to the weakness that spread into his knees, threatening to take him down. As it was he had to cling to Tony for a moment until he was sure that he was going to stay upright. Tony, bless his heart, kept hold of Sam until he got the small nod that he was okay. Then, keeping an arm around him, he tugged Sam to his side and looked up to _beam_ at Dean. “This calls for a celebration, I think. JARVIS, order us some pizza, would you, from that little shop Pep and I like. You two, come with me. I’ve got plenty of alcohol and I think this kind of celebration calls for it.”

“Tone…”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Tony held up his free hand to cut off Sam. “Nope! Not hearing it! It’s almost midnight here, puppy, and I’m not letting you two leave until at least the morning, so why not take a bit and have a few drinks while you’re at it?”

Sam knew that, unless things had changed this past year, Tony didn’t drink. He might act like he did around others, but he didn’t. Which meant that it was Dean and Sam who were going to be the ones getting drunk. When Sam cast a questioning look over at Dean, he was surprised to see Dean shrug at him, looking a whole lot less annoyed than he’d expected. “Sounds good to me.” Dean said easily. “What do you got to drink in this place, Stark? I’m not exactly a _wine_ drinker.”

“Heathens.” Tony said, tugging Sam along with him towards the bar. “Heathens, the both of you. But don’t you worry, tiny Winchester – this isn’t a wine kind of event. This calls for the good stuff!”

As Sam was tugged over to the bar, Tony pressed against him and Dean nearby, neither one of them fighting for the moment, he couldn’t help but smile. Things might still be shit at the moment, and there was so much that could still go wrong, but right here and right now? He had his brothers with him and JARVIS watching over them. There wasn’t anything more he could ask for.


	3. Chapter 3

The real reunion between Tony and Sam didn’t happen that night. Most of it would come tomorrow, Tony knew. They’d spent most of the night close, usually touching in some way, and the more they drank the more comfortable Sam got with those touches and the less Dean glared over them. It soothed something in Tony, but it wasn’t the real reunion for them. Not while they had an audience watching.

For now, he was content enough to help a very drunk Sam into the bedroom of the penthouse and dump him into bed. There was a guest room on this floor that Dean could stay in, if he so wanted, or he could sleep on the couch. Tony planned on offering either option to him. But, selfishly, he’d dragged Sam into _his_ room, into _his_ bed. He wasn’t all that eager to let the kid out of his sight right now.

“M’ fine.” Sam mumbled, even as he stumbled over his feet. The kid actually fucking _giggled_ at that, and Tony shook his head fondly, grateful they’d managed to keep Sam from getting to the ‘mopey’ stage of things. He could be a real maudlin drunk with the right type of alcohol, or the right amount.

“Sure you’re fine, pipsqueak.” Tony teased him. He steered them the last few inches to the bed and then gratefully lowered Sam down. He couldn’t help but laugh as Sam let himself flop back with a pleased look on his face. “You’re a ridiculous drunk.”

One of Sam’s hands came up to flap in Tony’s direction. “Pot – kettle!”

Snorting, the older man shook his head, not quite able to wipe the grin off his face. “Yeah, I got nothing on you, kiddo. I think alcohol intensifies your puppyness.” With practiced skill, he moved forward and slipped down to one knee so that he could catch Sam’s feet and untie his shoelaces. First one shoe, then the next, ended up tucked under the edge of the bed where he knew Sam liked to put them. Then he straightened himself up and looked at the half unconscious kid. There wasn’t much time before Sam was really going to be out of it. Once he went out, he wouldn’t wake till morning. “All right, c’mon, pup-pup. Let’s get you out of those jeans and tucked into bed before you pass out on me here.”

It took a bit of effort on both their parts – more on Tony’s than anything else – and a whole lot of giggles and laughter, but eventually they got Sam stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt and tucked under the blankets. Once he was, Tony sat down on the edge of the bed and indulged something he’d wanted to do for quite a while tonight. He reached a hand out and let his fingers card through Sam’s hair. Just like always, the kid melted underneath the touch, making the happiest of sounds. He rolled towards Tony, though it was more of a flop really, and buried his face right up against Tony’s hip. “Missed you.” The kid mumbled against him. “M sorry. M’ s’ sorry.”

“Hush.” Tony’s voice was soft, that gentle sound that Sam always seemed to invoke in him. It was a tone that not even Pepper got to hear. One that was reserved specially for this giant of a kid who’d wormed his way deep into Tony’s heart. “You’re fine, Sam. It wasn’t your fault.”

Sam pressed his face in closer. “ _Was_.”

Though he could’ve continued to argue, it was better to save that for a time when Sam was more likely to actually remember the conversation. Tony gave a low hum and just continued to pet at his hair. “I’m glad you’re back.”

He sat there for who knew how long, petting Sam’s hair even after he’d gone to sleep. It was something he’d been quite surprised to find that he really missed doing. Being able to now soothed him just a bit.

The past year and a half of worries and fears and half-formed anger sat like a knot inside of Tony’s gut. Yet, as he stared down at Sam’s relaxed face, the giant puppy all sprawled out in his bed while still keeping himself close, he couldn’t hold on to it. Not after what he’d learned this evening. All those texts telling Tony it wasn’t safe, snapping at him to ‘leave me alone, Stark’, and the direct avoidance when Tony had broken down and taken the suit to try and find him – those weren’t Sam. Not _his_ Sam.

He’d been worried for a while that Sam might be possessed. That maybe the devil was still riding around inside of Sam. That only lasted until Sam went to Bobby’s place and JARVIS was able to do a quick scan of him. It showed the presence of something, sure, but nothing like what, say, Castiel gave off. He figured Lucifer would give off more than an angel like Castiel. So, the tiny bit he had inside of him, it might be leftover from having Lucifer possess him. Tony wasn’t sure and he wasn’t exactly going to ask Sam about it. But, that’d been enough to tell him that it _was_ Sam. A Sam who had apparently not wanted to see him. Now, as Tony watched his little brother, he wondered if maybe the soulless part of him had worried that Tony or JARVIS might be able to see the difference.

They had Sam back now, though. He was back and he was _here_. Not for long, Tony knew. The two would likely head out tomorrow. But he’d be able to get a night and at least breakfast out of the kid before he had to go again. And this time, it wouldn’t be to radio silence. Tony would make damn sure that Sam _and_ Dean both had StarkPhones to take with them so, no matter what, he’d be able to keep track of them and keep an eye on them. He wanted to be able to make sure they were going to be okay.

Their earlier words were playing in the back of Tony’s mind, reminding him that they might not exactly be okay right now. He wasn’t sure yet how he felt about this whole ‘Wall’ thing. He had questions – ones that only Dean was going to be able to answer. That meant they were going to have to manage to talk without snapping at each other. They’d done okay so far tonight with Sam as a buffer between them. But with him asleep, there was no telling how it was going to go. At least the walls of the bedroom would be able to keep Sam from hearing any argument that might happen.

Because he could, and because there was no one but JARVIS to see, Tony scooted himself away from Sam and then bent down to press a quick kiss to his head. He smoothed his hair back one more time and then straightened up. Time to go and get some answers.

When he exited his bedroom, quietly shutting the door, and made his way on quiet feet back out through the living area, he was surprised to find that Dean wasn’t slouching back the way he’d been before. No, he was sitting up the couch, holding a glass in front of his nose and sniffing at it. More accurately – _Tony’s_ glass. The older Winchester looked up as Tony walked in. Despite the drinks he’d had, his eyes were still sharp and his hands were steady. He was just as much a functioning alcoholic as Tony had once been. _Like recognizes like_. That was why he wasn’t too offended when Dean simply stated “You don’t drink.”

“Nope!” Tony said easily. He strolled forward, hands casually stuffed into his pockets. “Been sober a while now. But, public image, you know. Gotta give the people what they want.”

Dean snorted, but didn’t say anything. He just watched as Tony dropped down onto the couch opposite him.

Oh, this was going to be just _great_. He and the older Winchester hadn’t ever really gotten along in any of their past interactions. Sam joked that they were too much alike. In his better moments, Tony knew it was true. They were both loud, brash, flirtatious, drunks (or used-to-be-drunks, in Tony’s case), and they both loved Sam with a ferocity that put them constantly at odds with each other. Dean made it clear he didn’t like or trust Tony, especially not with Sam, and there was a bit of jealousy in there, Tony knew, at having to share a brother that had always been _his_. From what he knew of their upbringing, they’d only really ever had each other, and a lifetime of that made for some codependency that’d make any shrink sit up at attention.

For Tony’s part, he wasn’t all that fond of Dean in return, and he didn’t trust him with Sam either. Though he knew Dean would do anything to keep Sam alive – including sell his soul, he’d yet to show a very great regard for the kid while he was actually alive. He’d pushed Sam away with the whole Ruby thing, chose an angel over his brother time and time again, and then when Sam had needed him most his big brother had abandoned him, leaving Tony to pick up the pieces. Even after they’d reconciled, he’d still put the kid on ‘double secret probation’ and expected him to fall in line like a, well, like a well trained puppy. Hell, thinking of Sam in that damn panic room was enough to make Tony want to seethe even now.

He kept all that inside, though. There was no point to it. Not now. Not with what he wanted to do here.

Tony crossed one leg overtop the other and reclined back on the couch, slinging his arm along the back of it. “So, sounds like it’s been a crazy year for you two bozos.”

“You got no idea.” Dean said. He set the glass down on the table and slouched back. There was a haunted look in his eyes that made it clear his statement wasn’t an exaggeration.

It gave Tony a perfect lead in. “That’s actually exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” At the wary look that crossed Dean’s face, Tony couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Oh, quit worrying. I’m not going to try and take Sam away from you, Winchester. You could, however, say that I’m willing to negotiate for visitation rights.”

Dean relaxed a little at that, a good sign, and rolled his eyes. “Why do I suddenly feel like the parent in a bad divorce?”

Amusement had Tony smirking. He forwent the obvious ‘mama bear’ jokes that popped to mind and reminded himself that antagonizing Dean wouldn’t get him what he wanted here. Instead, he went for the one thing he thought might work, and which he didn’t often employ in business – the truth. “After this last _wonderful_ year, I’ve come to the conclusion that phone and Skype calls aren’t enough. They’re not going to help me if soulless Sam makes another appearance, or if something else big and strange and life-altering happens in your lives. So, here’s my offer.” Pushing himself forward, Tony shifted until he could rest his arms on his thighs, hands clasped between them, and he met Dean’s look with a steady one of his own. “You guys stop once every two months, as well as whenever you’re in the area, and I get a call from you guys the instant anything goes wrong. In return, I’ll let you guys use any of my houses as a safehouse when you need to run, and I’ll give you your own secure credit card to use, since Sam never uses his.”

He expected Dean to argue it. To give the whole ‘that’s my brother/we don’t need anything from you’ speech. He had arguments all prepared for it and everything.

So he was pretty damn surprised when Dean cocked his head and _counter-offered_. “Every six months, and a no-limit card.”

Tony’s eyes brightened a little. “Three months, and a five-thousand-dollar limit.”

“Five months, and ten thousand.”

For a brief second Tony thought about it. “Make it four months, and you’ve got a deal, Winchester.”

He enjoyed the pleased look that crossed Dean’s face. The other man nodded and relaxed once more into the couch. Tony relaxed back as well, quite content with the deal. He would’ve given Dean an unlimited card no matter what – had intended it, even, right from the start – but let the man think that he’d pushed to get what he wanted. The best kind of deal was where both sides got some of what they wanted, at least. In this, Tony was sure he’d come out on the better end of things. A ten-thousand-dollar limit on a car was a small price to pay. Considering what he knew of the boys, it wasn’t like they were going to run it out every week. Not that it’d hurt him if they did.

“You realize this means you have to call me if something does go wrong.” Tony reminded him. “Immediately. None of this, three days, three weeks, a _year and a half_ later.” There was no way he was staying out of the loop again.

Dean shrugged his shoulders casually. “Sam would’ve asked me to do the same thing, anyways.”

There was no stopping Tony’s grin. The kid had _played him._ He’d sat here and played him, conceding to things that he’d already known he was going to have to give. There was a part of Tony that wanted to clap a little. “Well played, Winchester.”

They might not ever be the best of friends, but sitting there together in the quiet living room, Sam sleeping safely nearby, Tony thought they might finally be making their way from enemies to at least acquaintances. Only time would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Do I still have any of you with me? Anyone out there still interested in this way-longer-than-I'd-planned series?? :D
> 
> I'd like to know what you guys want. I have a series of one-shots planned out that'll take us through to when Dean ends up in Purgatory. Little glimpses of important things along the way. Then, the Purgatory story that spawned this entire series. My question is - do you guys want me to go ahead and post the Purgatory story, and then put up the one shots later? Or do you want to go ahead and witness it all in order? Let me know what you think! An don't forget to let me know what you thought of THIS story!
> 
> Thanks so much for your continued love and support :)


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